Richard Wright: Wet Dream

A year after former Pink Floyd keyboardist Richard Wright’s death, I offer to you a review of his debut solo album, written and recorded during the increasingly common practice of downtime while the other band members waited for Roger Waters to dream up a worthy concept album. Recorded during most of 1978 – the year that Waters penned The Wall, so perhaps it’s a good thing that Wright and David Gilmour, who also wrote and recorded his eponymous debut album this same year, did something else besides sit around and twiddle their thumbs, which drummer Nick Mason was evidently doing – it explores a side of Wright that had only been hinted at on Floyd’s albums, but would become more apparent in the years to come: despite his obvious talent, he wasn’t the world’s strongest songwriter, and it’s obvious he would rather be lying in the sun off the coast of Greece, enjoying his money and beautiful Mediterranean women. (Who can blame him, really?)

Album opener ‘Mediterranean C’ begins deliberately with a piano melody reminiscent of ‘The Great Gig In The Sky’, before some lilting synthesizers turn it into an odd, middle-of-the-road ballad. Snowy White, second guitarist for Pink Floyd at the time, turns in some almost Gilmourian lines here, though there’s more of a gritty edge instead of the fluidity of Gilmour, and Mel Collins adds some tasteful saxophone, but the pace is so languid and slovenly that it sounds almost like Wright is sleepwalking through one tremendous spliff. The album continues its ho-hum speed with ‘Against The Odds’ and is the first to feature vocals. Remarkably, this was the first time in five years that he sang on a record; the previous Floyd albums, Wish You Were Here and Animals, saw a greater dominance in vocals by Waters and Gilmour (or even Roy Harper), so it’s a little strange to hear Wright’s voice sound about the same: quivery and frail, and a little off-key. There’s not much to speak of with this song, except that it features some very lovely keyboard work and a ethereal guitar solo.

‘Cat Cruise’ is an atmospheric instrumental – the balance of songs with vocals and songs without is 60/40 – and is the first song on the album to sound like Wright was able to put the joint down for a moment and come up with something a little more upbeat (though that’s a tenuous adjective, at best). It’s also the song that sounds the most like a Floyd song, with some great interplay between keyboards, saxophone, and guitar. ‘Summer Elegy’ isn’t quite as jovial as its predecessor, dealing again with marital discord (as most of the lyrics on this album do), though it’s married to a slightly uplifting melody that makes it sound more optimistic than it actually is. The laid-back instrumental approach continues on ‘Waves’ (noticing a theme yet? Wright seems to really enjoy sailing, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to call Wet Dream a “yacht rock” album), though it’s mixed in with some moodiness and interesting studio effects that sound like waves washing over the listener’s ears. Neat.

The album’s best track (which isn’t saying much, as it certainly wouldn’t have ever been considered for a Floyd album) is ‘Holiday’, a sprawling epic with Wright once again enjoying the benefits of his time off while Waters worked on a new concept. The thing is, his voice actually sounds decent, and the music increases in intensity throughout while rarely breaking its slower stride, heightening the emotion of the words, which find Wright pondering his role in life, and suggesting to “sail on” – whether that’s a metaphor or literal, given his fond appreciation for boating, is unknown. It’s probably a combination of both.

‘Mad Yannis Dance’ starts off with some rudimentary, simplistic piano work, before synthesizers, saxophone, and percussion are introduced to maintain interest. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work, and the song comes and goes with little consequence. ‘Drop In From The Top’ is yet another instrumental, and is an unusual, almost funky, jazz tune with some great electric piano work, but sits at odds with the other material, and I can’t tell if I like it or not. It almost sounds like a pastiche, but then the guitar solo kicks in, and the song takes off into a whole other direction. ‘Pink’s Song’, the only song to feature an outside writer – Wright’s wife, Juliette; all of the other tracks were written and produced entirely by him – is yet another questioning song, where Wright tries to find himself and ponders his worth. It would be decent if it weren’t for the presence of flute, turning it into a new age-sounding song, and that’s never good for business. The album closes with the appropriately-titled ‘Funky Deux’, with an excellent rhythm section performance and, once again, interesting interplay between guitar and saxophone. It’s not a great song, but it’s enjoyable enough to not entirely dismiss outright, unlike much of the other songs.

I realize now that I had intended this to be a memorial of sorts of Wright, who, by all accounts, was a wonderful musician and all-around good egg, so I feel some remorse for having panned most of his debut album. However, I take solace knowing that his best work was almost entirely contained to Pink Floyd (though his second proper solo album, Broken China, is leagues better than Wet Dream) and that he recorded this album as a way to shake off the cobwebs and limber up in preparation for The Wall. Or maybe he just wanted to receive some royalties so that he could buy another boat and go sailing on an extended holiday. Whatever the reason, it’s best not to take this as some sort of serious artistic statement, but rather a bored keyboardist laying down some song ideas because he wanted to – and had the means and resources, of course.

Essential listening: Cat Cruise, Summer Elegy, Holiday